


Flexible

by Boots (pwnmercys)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Caning, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Spanking, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:52:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pwnmercys/pseuds/Boots
Summary: Of all the things about Newt that Jacob didn’t quite understand, this may have been the revelation that confused him the most.In which Newt is a masochist, and Jacob finds he doesn't mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the FBAWTFT kinkmeme:
> 
> Just give me anything where Newt absolutely loves being caned!  
> Bonus 1: his partner is shocked that this shy, quiet boy would want such a thing but ends up loving it too  
> Bonus 2: sweet aftercare

Newt was always a surprise.  In fact, while Jacob couldn’t be sure of this, he got the impression that his friend was just as peculiar to other wizards as he was to Jacob himself.  Of all the things about Newt that Jacob didn’t quite understand, this may have been the revelation that confused him the most.  But he was trying to understand.

“So, you’re saying you want me to hit you?  With that thing?”  He gestured at the long, thin rod in Newt’s hands that appeared to be made out of some kind of bamboo.  _Rattan_ , Newt had called it.  Maybe that was some kind of magical plant, as it was much more flexible than any cane Jacob had ever seen.  “Are you serious?”

Newt nodded.  “Absolutely.  I haven’t been beaten in quite some time, and I don’t know anyone around here that I can trust to do it.  But I believe that I can trust you.”  

At these words, Jacob felt something warming inside him.  He wasn’t sure what he had done to earn this skittish man’s trust, but it felt significant, somehow.

“As for this,” Newt bent the cane in his hands into a curve, “it’s very flexible and won’t break no matter how hard you hit me.”  He smiled.  “It hurts very much.”

Jacob shook his head, as if trying to shake off his confusion.  “I can tell it would hurt just from looking at it.  But what I still don’t understand is, why would you want that?”

“It’s quite simple.  I like… I like to feel things.  I like to feel things very strongly.  Physiologically, pain has the potential to be much more powerful than pleasure ever could be.  It’s the strongest sensation the body can feel.”  Newt’s tone was very matter-of-fact, which only confused Jacob more.  “And in any case, I can pleasure myself perfectly well, but I cannot beat myself.  Can you understand now?”

Newt’s frankness prompted Jacob to laugh, and the entire conversation suddenly felt more relaxed.  “So this is pleasurable to you.”

“Yes.”

Even as he felt himself beginning to understand Newt’s logic, if not his motivations, Jacob was still curious.  “How did you find out?  You know, that you were… into this kind of thing?”

Newt shrugged.  “I suppose I’ve always known.”  A pause.  “Well, I’ve always known I had an interest.  I didn’t know until I tried it, obviously--one can never tell how one will respond to fantasy in reality--but as soon as I had, I knew immediately.”

Jacob nodded, though truthfully he wasn’t quite sure how someone could have always known something like that.  Maybe it was the same way he’d always known he wanted to bake, or maybe it was the same way his friend Manny had always known he preferred the company of men to that of women.  Still, Newt was not someone with whom he would have expected to find himself in this situation.  “It’s always the quiet ones,” he murmured to himself.

Newt cocked his head.  “Hm?”

Jacob shook his head.  “It’s nothing.  I don’t know why I’m surprised by any of you magical folks anymore.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with magic.  Wizards don’t typically understand either.  I’ve had more luck finding partners for this sort of thing among Muggles, actually.”

Even if he couldn’t understand wanting to be hit, Jacob could sort of understand wanting to hit someone.  But was it really okay to find pleasure in that?  As long as Newt wanted it, as long as Newt found pleasure in it too, he supposed there wasn’t a problem.  Finally, he nodded.  “All right.  I think I can do that for you.  I’m willing to try, at least.”

Newt beamed.

 

* * *

 

They met up in Newt’s flat, as he had magically soundproofed the room the day he moved in.  When Newt had explained to Jacob that this sort of thing could get loud, Jacob’s eyes widened with something more than surprise.  He was starting to feel a bit guilty at how much he was anticipating this.

“Well,” Newt broke the silence, “here we are.”  

Coming from anyone else, the words would have sounded hesitant and awkward.  But Jacob was getting to know Newt well enough to understand what was natural for him.  He flexed the cane Newt had given him in his hands, then gave it an experimental _swish_ through the air.  At the sound of the cane in motion, he noticed the expression on Newt’s face wavering between the man’s typical composure and… something else.  He knew immediately that he wanted to see more.

“So I know you want me to hit you,” Jacob began.  “But we didn’t discuss logistics much more than that.”

“Right.”  Newt nodded.  “I imagine, since it’s your first time doing this, that you’ll want to be able to see what you’re doing.  Would seeing the bruises bother you?”

Jacob hadn’t thought of that.  Now that the idea had been brought to his attention, he realized very quickly that he would not mind seeing the bruises at all.  In fact, his body seemed quite interested.  “No.  That wouldn’t bother me.  Why are you asking?”

“In that case, it’s probably better that I take my trousers down.  You’ll be able to aim more precisely, as well as being able to see the marks you’ve left.”  Newt took a breath, and his questioning eyes found Jacob’s.  “If you’re comfortable with that.”

That sounded perfectly fine to Jacob.  He even smiled a little, affectionately.  He would never completely lose his amusement at Newt’s straightforwardness where others would likely feel uncomfortable (nor his sympathy at his friend’s discomfort where others would be straightforward).  “That works for me.”

With little preamble, Newt took one of the pillows from the head of his bed and moved it closer to the center of the small mattress.  “I’d like you to try a few practice strokes first, so that you can get a feel for how to swing the cane and how to aim.  It can be a bit unwieldy at first, and of course it’s quite intense for the person receiving.  I’m sure you understand.”

Indeed, Jacob was glad that Newt had offered him a chance to practice.  He hadn’t wanted to seem unsure of himself, but he also hadn’t wanted to harm his friend.  He stepped toward the bed.  “Is there anything I should know?”

Newt moved up behind him, and took the hand that was holding the cane in his own.  He tilted Jacob’s wrist until he was holding the cane at an angle, then slowly moved Jacob’s arm up and back down again to tap the pillow.  “Like this.”  Again he raised Jacob’s arm and brought it back down, this time more quickly, snapping the cane sharply against the pillow.  “Now, try it on your own.”

Jacob nodded.  He moved his arm in an arc, carefully following the movements Newt had demonstrated, bringing the cane down slowly to tap against the pillow at the angle he’d been shown.  His arm was more confident the second time, striking the pillow with a decent amount of force and already taking advantage of the soundproofing spell.  

“That’s it,” Newt encouraged, “you’re doing very well.”  

If it was a tone similar to the one Newt used to coax his creatures, Jacob didn’t mind.  Without further prompting, he struck the pillow again.  _Whack!_   And again.  _Whack!  Whack!_   Jacob would never have guessed how loud the cane would be.  He would also never have guessed how satisfying he would find the sound.

He struck the pillow several more times, then looked up at Newt.  The other man seemed distracted, his usually-keen gaze somewhere faraway.  “Is that good?” Jacob asked him, still feeling a bit unsure.

At the sound of Jacob’s voice, Newt seemed to focus again.  His head gave a small shake, then he glanced briefly back at Jacob and smiled.  “Very.  How do you feel?”  

Nodding, Jacob responded.  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Newt chuckled.  “So am I.”  There was a pause, perhaps Newt waiting for some kind of response, but when none was forthcoming he continued.  “So, shall we begin?”

Hearing Newt’s amusement, Jacob laughed as well.  “I guess so.”

Newt moved over to the bed and began to unfasten his trousers.  Without looking up from the task at hand, he commented, “You know, I really appreciate you doing this.  Not everyone would.”  His tone was still plain, but Jacob understood that the sentiment was deeply felt.  He suspected that was why Newt didn’t look him in the eye.

Soon enough, Newt’s trousers were around his knees and he was lying across the bed, his head resting on his crossed arms and his hips propped up by the pillow they had been using for practice before.  

It was undeniable that Jacob appreciated the view.  His gaze moved along that pale expanse of skin, over the slight curve of Newt’s ass and down his slim thighs.  It struck him that all this would soon be flushed red, or maybe even a darker color than that, and it would be because of him.  As much as he felt a bit intimidated by it all, he also felt the pulse quickening under his own skin and an excitement rising up within him.

He tapped the cane several times against Newt’s exposed backside, though whether it was to prepare his friend or to steady himself, he couldn’t say.  “Ready?”

Newt laughed gently.  “Yes.”  The muscles in his thighs tensed as he felt the cane leave his skin.  Newt, too, was clearly eager for this.

Jacob took a deep breath in, then let it out.  He raised the cane, just as he had practiced, and brought it down across the pale skin of Newt’s ass, leaving a faint pink stripe where it had landed.  He felt a thrill run up his spine at the _whoosh_ of the cane cutting through the air, and the _snap_ of it against Newt’s skin.  Oh, he liked this already.

But he was doing this for Newt, and needed to know how his friend was doing.  Curious, he looked over at Newt’s face.  “Was that okay?”

Newt turned his head, burying his face in his arms.  He mumbled,  “You can go harder than that, if you’d like.”

This time, Jacob couldn’t quite read him.  “Is that what _you’d_ like?”

A muffled hum rose from Newt’s arms.  “Mmhmm.”  Getting no response from Jacob, he shifted his position, resting up on his elbows to stare at the wall.  Without turning his head, he replied, “I’d like that, yes.”  

Jacob shifted his weight from foot to foot, a nervous energy starting to run through him.  He should probably get on with it.  He lifted the cane again, then landed another, harder stroke on Newt’s ass.  This time, he saw a white stripe rise across the already pale flesh, just for a moment, before the skin started to darken and flush red.

Newt sighed as he felt the harsh sting spread itself in a line across his ass.  “ _Ah._   That’s about right, if you want to keep going like that.”

Jacob nodded, even though he knew Newt couldn’t see him.  _Whack!_   He struck Newt again, trying to match the strength of his previous stroke.  

Newt sucked in a sharp breath of air.

Jacob stopped.  “Hey, Newt, buddy.  Are you all right?  Did that hurt?”  

Newt only chuckled.  

“Okay, okay.  I mean, did I hit you too hard?”

Newt shook his head, his voice reassuring.  “No, no.  The noise I made was a good noise.  It’s fine, you’re perfectly fine.  If it does become too much for me, I’ll let you know.”  Having said all this, he glanced back briefly to look at Jacob, a loose smile already beginning to show on his face.

Jacob smiled back at him.  “All right.”  When Newt had returned his gaze to the wall, he swung the cane down again, and watched a new line of red spread itself across his friend’s pale skin.  He swallowed.  Again.  The snap of the cane against Newt’s ass was followed quickly by another, louder gasp.  Jacob resisted the instinct to ask Newt if everything was all right; he had to trust that Newt would tell him if it wasn’t.  

Again Jacob brought the cane down on Newt’s ass.  This time, it landed on top of one of the marks he’d left before.

Newt’s head jerked upwards.  “Ah!”  Jacob opened his mouth to ask if Newt was sure he was all right, but Newt preempted him.  “Still a good noise.  Keep going.”  And as an afterthought, “Please.”

Jacob obliged, this time striking Newt a little harder than before.  He couldn’t help but land the strokes on top of each other now.  Every stroke drew forth a gasp or a quiet noise from Newt.  After a particularly hard hit, one of Newt’s legs kicked up into the air, and he _whined_.  Jacob paused, giving Newt some time to stop him if he’d been hurt unpleasantly (the sound he made had sounded pleasurable to Jacob--a “good noise,” as Newt might call it--but he wanted to be sure).  Newt said nothing to indicate that he should stop.  Good.

Perhaps Jacob should have been more surprised by how much he was enjoying this.  Watching the skin of Newt’s ass going from creamy and pale to being covered in stripes of deep, satisfying red; listening to the pleasured noises Newt was making; even watching him squirm; every response aroused something in him.  The feeling wasn’t just sexual, which did surprise him.  There was a little bit of that, yes, but it was mostly something else.  There was something about beating him, in and of itself, that was satisfying.

By this time, Newt’s ass was quite red and covered in marks.  However, Jacob couldn’t help but notice that his thighs were still pristine, a beautiful blank canvas, if Newt were willing.  Jacob was a bit embarrassed to ask, or maybe embarrassed by the fact that he wanted to hit his friend more.

Newt felt the cane tapping against the backs of his thighs.  Oh, yes.

“Can I--” Jacob began, unsure how to ask.   “Is it okay if I hit you here?”

He should never have worried; Newt responded with an immediate, enthusiastic “Yes!”  Having established that it was okay, Jacob tapped the back of Newt’s legs several more times just under the curve of his ass, to help focus his aim on his new target.

“Oh.  Before you start,” Newt clarified, “not quite so hard on the thighs.  It’s more sensitive.”

Jacob nodded.  “Not a problem.”  He lifted the cane and brought it down against Newt’s long, slender thighs.  _Swish!_   Immediately he could see what Newt meant; the skin flushed red much more quickly, and the mark itself looked darker than the same amount of force might have left had it landed on Newt’s ass.  Jacob could even see darker spots where the tip of the cane had landed, which looked as if they might bruise.  Judging by the moan that came from Newt in response, his friend didn’t mind too much.

Jacob struck him again.  Again, a thin streak of red painted itself across both thighs, a splash of crimson against a creamy white canvas.  _Smack!_   And another.  Newt was letting out soft, pleased noises with every new stripe of red across his pale skin.  His breathing had begun to match the rhythm of Jacob’s strokes.

Jacob was surprised by how quickly everything seemed to happen.  His previous hesitance was gone, and the cane itself cut through the air so fast.  Each stroke felt swift and sure, and Jacob experienced them with all his senses; the swish of the cane through the air and the snap of it as it landed on Newt’s ass, the sight of the skin rapidly flushing into dark red lines, the sensation of the cane in his hand bending as it cut through the air, and the jolt as it made its impact.  Jacob found himself lost in it all.  Before he knew it, Newt’s thighs were covered in uniform stripes of red, and even the pale skin between them had begun to flush pink.

As much as he loved the neat row of lines he’d left, Jacob found himself curious about what kind of reaction it would draw from Newt if he landed one stroke on top of another here.  Raising his arm, he snapped the cane down at a diagonal, crossing over several of the existing marks.

“Fuck!”  Newt hissed and squirmed.  His voice shook Jacob from his reverie--he had never heard his friend swear before--and he worried for a second that he had done too much harm.

“Sorry, sorry, I won’t--.”

“No,” Newt interrupted him.  “No need to apologize.  It was good.  Very good.  Intense.  Remember, I do like this.”  His voice was breathy, and his speech less fluid than usual.  It even seemed to Jacob that Newt had begun to slur his words.  “But I do think--only a few more.  You’re doing very well,” he reassured.

“Thanks.”  Jacob didn’t realize until he spoke that his own breathing was shallow, his own mind less sharp.  He hadn’t expected to feel quite like this, though it wasn’t a bad feeling.  “So, a couple more.”

Newt nodded.  “Yes.  And you can make them harder than before.  If you want.”

Jacob’s eyes widened.  “I think I do want.”

“Perfect.”  Even though he couldn’t see Newt’s face, he could hear the dazed smile in his voice.

“Well.  Here we go.”  _Whack!_   He brought the cane down sharply across Newt’s thighs.  A streak of white, which quickly darkened to a deep red.

Newt let out a hiss which turned into a loud whine.  He gasped, “All right.  No more on the thighs, I think.  But do keep going.”

Even as he knew that both of them were enjoying this, Jacob could tell it was time to bring things to an end soon.  “Okay.  Five more on your butt sound good?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Jacob stepped back and took aim, this time shifting his attention back to Newt’s ass.  The cane came down once, twice, thrice more, now harder than before.  Each time, the sound of the cane cutting through the air and then striking the already-reddened flesh echoed through the room.  Maybe it was the soundproofing spell that made the noises seem so loud, or maybe Jacob was hitting just that hard.  

Each stroke was also echoed by a sharp gasp or whine from Newt, who was clearly still enjoying this.  The noises he made sounded almost like sexual pleasure, though there was a difference, perceptible if one was listening for it.  His fingers were gripping the edge of the mattress, tightening with each blow, and his shoulders rose and fell in harsh breaths.

 _Snap!_   Newt’s hips wiggled at the fourth stroke, as if he couldn’t decide whether to retreat from the blow or to encourage it.  A second after it had landed, he hissed loudly as yet another welt rose up on the already reddened skin.  He breathed in deep, as if anticipating the final stroke.

Jacob, too, was preparing himself.  He also took a deep breath before addressing himself to Newt.  “Last one.  Do you want this one to be harder?”

Newt nodded with enthusiasm.  “Please.”

A second later, and _crack!_   There it was.  Jacob heard Newt moan loudly and then slump down onto the mattress, face buried in his arms.  Giving Newt time to compose himself, Jacob took a moment to examine his handiwork.

There were marks scattered from Newt’s bottom to halfway down his thighs.  The welts on his ass seemed to flow seamlessly from one into another, the individual lines becoming difficult to distinguish now.  Jacob could see flecks of purple starting to appear between some of them.  The places on Newt’s thighs where one mark intersected with another were also beginning to bruise, even darker than the welts on his backside.  Jacob had never seen anything like it.

When the rise and fall of Newt’s breathing had slowed to a gentle rhythm, Jacob sat down on the bed by his feet, setting the cane aside.  He reached out and began to rub the back of Newt’s lower leg through his trousers.  “How you doing?  You okay?”

“Mmmm.”  Without turning to look at him, Newt nodded and let out a contented hum.  He was lying flat across the mattress now, one arm tucked under his head and the other sprawled out in front of him.  All the tension in Newt’s body was gone, and his posture was more loose and relaxed than Jacob had perhaps ever seen him.  His head nuzzled into the crook of his arm, and a happy sigh escaped him.  Jacob felt the sudden urge to pet his friend’s hair.  Instead, he continued to rub the back of Newt’s leg, wanting at least to touch him somehow, to maintain that physical connection.  It felt important right now.

Jacob leaned over to examine the marks in more detail.  He was both amazed and fascinated that he had done this, and Newt had enjoyed it.  His hand made its way up the back of Newt’s leg, fingertips running over the welts there and feeling the ridges that had risen from each mark.  When he reached Newt’s ass, he was surprised to feel that the skin was _hot_ , and welted even more than his thighs.  He traced along a particularly dark stripe with his finger, and he felt a rush of something rising in him which he couldn’t name.  It was a satisfaction and a protectiveness at the same time.  He turned toward Newt’s head.

“Are you sure you’re fine?  Those are some pretty nasty marks I gave you.”  His hand brushed across the welts, following the curve of Newt’s ass down his thighs, and back up again.  “Is there anything I can do?  Put some ice on it?  They look like they’re gonna bruise.”

Newt made a quiet sound of amusement, then turned his head to give Jacob a lopsided smile.  “If I wanted to get rid of the bruises, I have some perfectly good arnica compresses for that.”  He shook his head.  “No, I like them.  I like to feel them later.  I like to remember.”

There was something about that, about leaving marks on his friend that would still be there for awhile, under his clothes, their own little secret, which gave Jacob a special kind of satisfaction.  This time, he could identify the cause; Newt trusted him with this, and he knew how difficult the man’s trust was to earn.  He felt suddenly humbled that Newt had asked him, before anyone else, to do this.  He smiled and shook his head.  “All right.  If you say so.”

Jacob couldn’t always understand Newt, but he was beginning to recognize that he didn’t have to.  Perhaps it was better sometimes to be complementary.


End file.
